Unintentional
by EvelynEvelyn
Summary: After recovering from Spanish Flu Cora begins to see O'Brien in a new light [Slow burn Cora/O'Brien fic]


_Thank you so much to my beta reader_- **LadyNobleSong** _for going over this for me and making it an even better first chapter! _

_[ rating will go up in later chapters ]_

_- EvelynEvelyn x_

* * *

_I can see a lot of life in you_  
_I can see a lot of bright in you_  
_And I think the dress looks nice on you_  
_I can see a lot of life in you_

_I can see a bed and make it too_  
_I can see a fireside turn blue_  
_And I can see the lot of life in you_  
_Yes, I can see a lot of life in you_

Sufjan Stevens

The last few days had been a haze for Cora.

She knew she'd been ill, very ill in fact. The same illness had proved fatal for Miss Swayer, and while she was relieved to be recovering, there was no taking away the guilt of surviving when one so young did not. Never the less, Cora was_ not _one to dwell on things beyond her control; her optimistic nature reminding her of just how lucky she was, and that life should _always _be treasured.

Still, she wasn't entirely out of the dark. Although her state of consciousness remained, the brunette Countess was bed bound, on the orders of both Dr Clarkson and Robert. Apparently, even though she was through the worst of it, minor symptoms would still take a few days to clear away completely. Not that Cora believed she could have gotten up had she wanted to; she still felt groggy and tired. It was as if she'd been disturbed from a long sleep, woken up halfway through a vivid dream. Now she was trying to piece together forgotten moments and make sense of everything that'd happened while she'd been drifting between reality and oblivion.

Shifting slightly against the plush pillows of her bed, Cora tried to sit up straighter. It took all the energy she had in her weakened state, but she refused to lie dormant for another second. Yes, she agreed with her family that she needed rest, but that didn't mean she would just lie there like some useless object. Briefly, she considered trying getting out of bed completely, blue eyes glancing at the nearby chaise. Surely no one could object to that; after all, she would still be resting-technically. For the first time in days, a flurry of excitement surged through Cora, Robert would most likely say it was her American streak, and she couldn't help but sigh at the thought.

She should have been used to it by now, the years of subtle- and sometimes even not so subtle-disregard to her own heritage. Robert and his mother had mastered the art of patronising her culture to perfection, and even their daughters had caught on to it; Mary especially. All the while she wanted to scream to the top her lungs and remind them that it was _her_ american money that'd saved Downton from damnation.

But she didn't.

In fact, she had been surprised at Robert's tenderness when she'd first come around. His love for her had been unquestionable, and yet lately they'd both been so distant from one another. She knew Robert was struggling with life after the war- it had changed drastically, and even she couldn't accept _everything_. But she'd hoped he would have encouraged her newfound independence and not scold her for it.

But it would later appear then that, now she was better, whatever grievances their marriage had encountered were over. Cora couldn't help but smile to herself as she was reminded of Robert, and how he'd reassured her that things were indeed alright between them.

"My lady!" a Scottish accent broke through her train of thought.

Startled by the unexpected arrival, Cora flinched slightly before turning her attention towards the sound.

"Should you be sitting up like that?" Mrs Hughes went on before Cora had the chance to greet her, but she smiled none the less.

It was a welcomed sight to see a member of staff after her ordeal. If anything, the housekeeper's stern concern reminded her of normality, and she craved it now more than ever. "Really Mrs Hughes, I'm _quite _alright" she replied, though her voice sounded hoarser than usual . Mrs Hughes eyed her suspiciously, but remained silent. She may have ordered a sick maid to lie back down in the past, but even she wasn't about to tell her Ladyship what to do in her own house.

"Very well then, if you say so m'lady " she replied, carrying a tray into the room. Still looking clearly unconvinced, the older woman nevertheless made her way around to the side Cora was lying on. As she got near, the smell of hot soup made Cora's stomach rumble on its own accord. It'd been days since she'd last eaten, and she really was quite ravenous. "Everyone downstairs is so relieved at your recovery m'lady," Mrs Hughes continued, her voice expelling nothing but sincerity, as she gently placed the tray down in front of the Countess. Straightening slightly, Cora beamed at the news of downstairs, and her smile only widened, until she revealed rows of pearly whites. "Tell them I'm _very _touched by their concern and am quite relieved myself" she replied, eagerly picking up a spoon.

But before she placed it into the steaming hot soup, Cora found herself frowning. "Mrs Hughes-" she began again, watching as the woman began to retreat, "why is it you bringing me my food? Where is O'Brien?" she asked, genuinely confused. It was, after all, the lady's maid's job to take care of such needs. Stopping at the end of the bed, Mrs Hughes shook her head "Ah, yes of course, you don't know..." these words only heightened Cora's perplexion, and her blue eyes widened in expectation.

"While you were ill, Miss O'Brien hardly left your side, m'lady; in fact, she slept in the chair over there practically every night" she explained, motioning with her now free hands towards the small chair near her ladyship's bed. O'Brien was indeed a good lady's maid, but never had she displayed such loyal care towards her ladyship in the past. "So I took it upon myself to give her the day off- she wasn't best pleased at the idea but I insisted, I _hope_ that's alright m'lady"

[x]

After Mrs Hughes had explained the reason behind O'Brien's absence, Cora had felt herself well up at the revelation. She'd always known that O'Brien was fond of her, especially after the dark days following her miscarriage - she grimaced at the thought- but this was an entirely knew kind of consideration. Cora knew how difficult it was for one to obtain a caring maid, and how many of her friends would tell her horror stories of how displeasing their own experiences with hers had been.

Sighing softly, Cora leant back into the cushions, her hunger and the soup before her all but forgotten. Luckily for her, she'd never had such tales to report on dear O'Brien; in fact she could only recall one time when she'd been upset by her maid's actions. And that had been years ago, when she'd overheard her speaking her mind downstairs. No, O'Brien truly was the model of propriety when it came to her job. Even on occasion when Cora would ring her up unscheduled, the woman would turn up- sometimes smelling of cigarettes- but it had never bothered her; in fact, she found it endearing.

She could almost imagine the maid's annoyance at being called so late, and was sure sometimes there must have been a glint of resentment in her eyes. But never had she confronted the brunette about this; instead she feigned ignorance and would chatter on about something irrelevant. Masking her own fears and guilt was something a Lady of her stature had been taught to do since birth, and it was difficult to break the habit. Besides, she was sure that ever since she lost the baby, O'Brien's detached demeanour had somewhat faded. At first Cora had seen it as pity, but as the weeks wore on, she knew it had to be something else; no one was worth being felt sorry for that long.

Exhaling sharply, she decided not to think of it anymore, and concentrated on the soup Mrs Hughes had left her. Bringing the spoon to her mouth, Cora let herself the luxury of enjoying every mouthful of Mrs Patmore's cooking; something she hadn't been able to do for days.

[x]

"O'Brien, thank you for staying with me through my illness" Cora blurted out of nowhere one evening, causing O'Brien's hands to flutter slightly as she finished pinning up onyx tresses before dinner. Cora shifted in her seat, her blue eyes seeking out her lady's maid in the mirror she sat opposite to.

"Mrs Hughes told me how you refused to leave my side" she elaborated before reverting her gaze back to her own reflection. It had been a whole week since Cora had begun to recover from Spanish flu, and tonight was the first dinner she was able to attend since falling ill.

"You're welcome, m'lady" O'Brien replied, not knowing what else to say. She'd tended to Cora many times since she regained consciousness, and not once had the Countess mentioned even being aware of her bedside presence. Had it not been for her guilt over Cora's miscarriage still looming over her, then perhaps O'Brien would have felt disgruntled by the disregard she'd been given until now. But since that unforgettable day, any bitterness O'Brien had once felt towards her employer had vanished, only to be overcome with this need to take care of the older woman. Not just when she was ill, but every day of the year.

Trying to remain impassive, O' Brien continued to delicately pin dark curls, her hands occasionally lingering for longer than it was necessary "But it was no more than what any lady's made should do for 'er mistress," she added. She wasn't sure why she tried to brush off her act of kindness; perhaps being seen as anything but her stoic self was proving uncomfortable. Nevertheless, she didn't want the praise.

Cora, it seemed, had other ideas and she suddenly twisted around in her seat. She looked up at O'Brien,her eyes filled with adoration. "I _have_ to disagree, you went above and beyond your duty, my dear… I'm only ashamed that I haven't thanked you before now" she smiled warmly at her maid, taking in her flushed cheeks and almost uncertain expression "Not that I _ever_ doubted your sincerity, yet it's comforting to know how loyal you are" as if to further illustrate her point, Cora reached out with her hand to take hold of O'Brien's.

"Truly, I am grateful." Her smile only widened , and she squeezed her maid's rough hand, as if expecting some sort of response.

O'Brien glanced down at their hands; it was not uncommon for Lady Grantham to be so forward with her actions. The lady was far more touchy-feely than any other lady she'd encountered -_must be an american thing_, O'Brien mused before finally returning the smile "I'm just glad that you're better now, and that's what's important" she answered, trying not to sound over the top and waited until Cora was satisfied, so she could continue with her hair.

[x]

Halfway down the steps that lead to the Servant's Hall, O'Brien crossed paths with Thomas. The young,former footman wore a devilish grin on his face as he stopped to greet her . "Well then? 'Ow was her _majesty_?" Sarcasm dripped from his tone as he spoke. Usually O'Brien would have played along and replied with her own mocking commentary of Cora, but the latter's gratitude had thrown her off.

"'Er ladyship's _just_ recovered from a life threatnin' illness, do you 'ave to sound so 'eartless?' "

Keeping her expression indifferent, she tried to sound as casual as she could. Ever since he'd come back from the war, her relationship with Thomas had become more and more strained. Gone was their usual banter and it was replaced with something far more serious. Raising his eyebrows, Thomas shook his hear "Blimey, you'd think you_ actually _cared for 'er!" With that he continued on his way up, leaving O'Brien to let his words sink in.

After her part in Cora's miscarriage, she felt she had no choice but to care for the countess. More so than just plainly, as a lady's made would a lady; no, she needed to feel as if she were genuinely doing something right. Any bit of extra information she had, she'd share with Cora, and though many would assume it was for her own benefit, it wasn't. In actual fact she was doing everything she could to try and ease her own guilt over the situation. Ever since that awful day, it was getting increasingly difficult to sleep; she'd have nightmares of blood and screaming, and will herself not to make a sound as she awoke in terror. It was ironic really, that the only time she slept peacefully was in the chair beside Cora.

Clenching her jaw, O'Brien continued down the stairs, passing the flurry of maids and kitchen staff without a second glance. It would be hours before dinner was over and she'd be needed again to prepare Cora for bed; so as always found herself heading straight for the yard for her routine cigarette break.

_And 'bleedin 'ell' she needed one,_ she thought.


End file.
